Page 150 of The Mafia's Broken Vows

“Carissimo,” he corrects gently, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Carissimo,” I repeat, melting again at the way he rolls his r’s. “I’m such a slow learner.”

His lips quirk up in a smirk. “Oh, I don’t know about that. You seemed to pick up 'più forte' and 'non fermarti' pretty quickly last night.”

I feel my cheeks heat up, but I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. “Dante! I’m trying to have a serious conversation here.”

He grins, unrepentant, but says, “Alright, alright. Talk to me. What is it about those women that worries you?”

I sigh. “To be honest, I’m not sure how we’ll cope without Sophie when she’s busy with the twins.”

His brows furrow. “But she can still help now, can’t she?”

“She sure can. But the problem is, those women aren’t ready for any sort of psychological help. All we’re doing now is letting them get used to being free. Some of them can’t speak English. A few simply won’t speak at all. And Mezhen still wants to go back.”

Dante nods, his expression growing serious. “That’s so messed up. Are you worried that when they’re finally ready for Sophie, she won’t be able to take them on?”

“Exactly. And I don’t have the tools to help. Even if I did, sixteen women . . . I’m just thinking—”

“You need to employ professional help,” Dante interjects, already knowing what I’m about to say.

“Yeah.” I agree. “And not just mental help. They need doctors, legal advice, employment. Some need more education to get a job. One of them just found out she’s pregnant. It’s a lot for me as one person to deal with—”

“But not for a charity,” Dante interjects again.

I roll my eyes. “Dante freaking Vitelli. Are you going to let me speak, or would you like to carry on reading my mind?”

I always want to kiss and strangle him when he does this. I know it’s because he processes information so fast it’s as if he can’t wait for the rest of us to catch up.

Dante’s eyes light up as he pinches his fingers together and mimics a zipping motion across his lips. “Go on, tesoro.”

Shit. Now I want to stop talking altogether and do something else. But I make myself carry on. I take a deep breath, forcing myself to concentrate on the women and their needs.

“Anyway, yes, I was thinking of starting a charity. We’d employ all the professionals needed to give them the tools to reclaim their lives.”

“I think that’s doable. And funding won’t be an issue.”

My smile widens as excitement builds. “Okay, well, maybe in a few years I’d want to be more hands-off and scale it into a foundation. But for now, just a charity will do.”

“What do you want to call it?”

I hesitate. “I thought it could be called Power. Because that’s what we want to give them back, right? Their power, their agency.”

“True.” Dante nods, his eyes focused intently on me.

“And, ah, also because Potenza means power, right?”

Dante’s lids fall closed for a few moments. When he opens them, his eyes are stormy, but his voice is steady. “Yeah, it does. Grazie, tesoro.”

He reaches out to stroke the scar on my hip. Sensations burst from under his fingers, flooding me with endorphins. He knows just how, when, and where to touch me.

I bite my lip and suppress a moan. Then, ignoring my body’s protest, I place my hand over his to stop the stroking.

We should talk about this.

“Dante?”

“Addy?”

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